


From the Wasp's Nest

by Phnx



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ashiwara and Saeki are postdocs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phnx/pseuds/Phnx
Summary: Saeki may not be great at this rivalry thing.





	From the Wasp's Nest

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Facts!  
> ( 1 ) This was what I was initially going to submit to tuuli’s second round of unofficial Blind Go, but then the deadline was coming up and it wasn’t getting finished, so I dropped it and wrote Moonlighting instead.  
> ( 2 ) I tried this with and without honourifics, but somehow I really prefer the tone of this with the Japanese honourifics included. Sorry if that bothers you!  
> ( 3 ) I basically forgot to include any conflict in here. Oops.  
> ( 4 ) Title is from the haiku by Basho, as written below.  
> ( 5 ) Thank you to RogueMarieL for the read-over!

\- 春雨や 蜂の巣つたふ 屋根の漏り -  
spring rain, it drips from the wasp’s nest and it leaks through the roof

The warm breeze wafting in from the open window carries with it the sweet scent of cherry blossoms and a mood of reminiscence. Poetic snippets seem to float along with the flurry of petals, phrases about the transience of beauty, and regrowth after a long winter, and all kinds of other ideas that represent the passing of time, until the gentle flutter of each petal that settles on the window sill is a thunderclap reminder that Saeki is rapidly running out of time to reshape his career into that of a promising academic with a score of hireable qualities.

And there on his computer screen, nestled innocuously between a question from a student and meeting reminder, lies the e-mail that will destroy his dreams of someday being admitted to some (any) faculty, some (any) where.

He refreshes his inbox, hoping the message will vanish and be replaced with something more promising, but when the page reloads, the damning words **Invitation to Interview** remain, staring him down.

Saeki is still scowling at the screen when the office door opens and Morishita shoulders his way in, conversing in his habitual bellow with the graduate students following him. Shindou and Waya, both not only accustomed to Morishita’s mode of speaking but having some predilection in that way themselves, nod along agreeably with Morishita’s rant as they dump their bags by their respective desks and collapse into their chairs.

It doesn’t take long for Morishita to turn his attention to his only postdoc. “And you, Saeki,” he shouts, “have you heard back from any of the universities, yet?”

“From one,” replies Saeki dully. “Ritsumeikan University. I’ve got an interview.”

Waya and Shindou cheer, and Morishita nods in satisfaction. “Good, good. When is it being scheduled?”

Saeki lets himself slump down, his forehead thumping painfully against the wooden veneer of his cheap desk. “Next month.”

Morishita’s thick eyebrows pull together in a frown. “That’s very short notice, but it shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll have you practise your talk in front of the department, if you want, but you’re ready. I wouldn’t worry.”

Saeki is quiet for a moment, overcome by the rush of gratitude for his mentor. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Is that really what you’re worried over, Saeki-san?” asks Waya carefully. “You seemed pretty confident earlier.”

Privately, Saeki thinks that’s at best an overstatement. It wasn’t until he’d found himself sharing space with Morishita, Waya, and especially _Shindou_ that he quite realised how infinite a resource confidence could be for some people. No one doing a survey of the lab would ever point Saeki out as confident in comparison, or even in general. “It’s not just that,” he admits. “I got an e-mail from Ashiwara saying that he’s interviewing for the same position. I guess I’ve gotten a little nervous with the competition.”

“Healthy competition is the backbone of academia!” Morishita bellows, as though on reflex. And then, predictably, he adds, “That’s not Ashiwara from the Touya lab, is it? Why is he e-mailing you? Is he hazing you? Where’s this e-mail?” Morishita stomps over to Saeki’s desk to squint at Saeki’s open inbox. “‘Lunch less than three’?” he reads. Morishita ponders this for a moment, ignoring Shindou and Waya’s sudden choking laughter. “Is that some sort of statistics joke? Is he hazing you with statistics?”

Saeki shoots up in his chair, face red, and quickly closes out of his inbox. “No, he’s not hazing me, it’s just… a thing. That he does,” he says, clearing his throat.

“A ‘thing,’” cries Shindou, almost in tears. “Tell us more! Did you say yes?”

Waya snorts. “Do you even have to ask?”

Morishita’s expression remains foreboding. “You’re sure he’s not bothering you, Saeki?”

Waya and Shindou break down into laughter again. Saeki tries to pretend he’s not blushing when he mutters, “No, it’s fine.”

Morishita frowns at him for a moment longer before nodding and turning back to the subject of the interview. “Ashiwara or no Ashiwara, you’ve got this. Show me which studies you plan to present.”

\--

The intro course in the late morning is completely full, from the front seats all the way to the doors at the top of the stairs. When Saeki stands at the front of the auditorium, he feels horribly out of place. He’s almost ready to believe that the students are really an audience who bought tickets for a concert or a recitation of a famous monologue, that they’re all ready to call him out as an imposter and boo him off the stage. Saeki usually enjoys teaching, but he’s much more comfortable with smaller classes--when he was a grad student at his tiny alma mater, he’d never taught a class larger than thirty, a number that seemed impossibly huge at the time.

He finishes setting up his PowerPoint and stares up at nearly 500 students. _It’ll all be fine_ , he tells himself firmly, as he does every class.

And it is fine, just as it always is.

The lecture has barely ended before a queue of students forms in front of the lectern, and Saeki sighs and lets the questions come.

“How much is the paper worth?”

“When is the next exam?”

“Is the textbook actually required?”

“So for the exam on the first few chapters of the textbook… I might miss a few weeks of class, and I was wondering, is there a way I can make that exam up?”

Saeki blinks at this last student in surprise. “The exam… from last month?”

The student seems unbothered. “Oh, did it already happen?”

Saeki can’t help but stare. The answer (no) takes quite some time to get across. 

The room is almost empty when Saeki is finally able to turn to the last person in the queue, an apology for making them wait ready on his lips.

Ashiwara is looking at him, biting back a grin. “Don’t worry, Saeki-kun,” he says, mock consolingly. “I don’t need to make up the exam you’ve already returned to the class.”

“Ashiwara! I’m sorry, are you in this room next? Here, let me finish clearing out.”

Ashiwara’s laughter always leaves his conversants with the impression that Ashiwara thinks they’re the most wonderful, smartest, funniest people on the planet, and Ashiwara wields this like a sword during departmental meetings. Saeki has sometimes stayed up late trying to catalogue what microexpressions and specific tones are responsible for this skill, but with no success. “Actually, I’m here to see if you’re still up for lunch.”

The class’s final stragglers are still heading to the door, and Saeki can see almost see their ears perk up in interest and delight.

“Oh, right,” Saeki says, as though he hasn’t been distracted all morning by **Lunch < 3**. “Sure, if you can wait a moment.”

Ashiwara smiles at him brightly. “I’m in no rush.”

Saeki feels himself start to flush and curses himself silently. “Great.”

Ashiwara is one of the worst people Saeki could have a crush on. The famed rivalry between the Touya and the Morishita labs aside, Ashiwara is a beautiful, accomplished scholar who makes friends everywhere he goes, and Saeki doesn’t have a chance in hell with him. Still, Ashiwara seems to enjoy spending time with him, if only because they’re both postdocs of approximately the same age. Saeki tries to be content with quietly treasuring each smile that is thrown his way while not deluding himself as to the intent behind them. So far, he’s had approximately zero success.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” says Ashiwara, once they’re settled down in a corner of their usual cafe. He takes a sip of his coffee and wrinkles his nose adorably when he discovers it’s too hot. “Why do you take on classes every term?”

It’s a reasonable question. Most postdocs at his current institution don’t teach, instead using the time exclusively to further hone their research skills. Morishita has said on more than one occasion that he feels Saeki’s time could be better spent on his research, or even put towards that highly coveted goal of “freetime.”

Saeki shrugs uncomfortably. “I need to practise,” he says quietly.

Ashiwara laughs, but when he sees Saeki’s expression, he stops and stares. “Are you actually serious?” he asks uncertainly.

“I’m still getting used to these larger classes.” Saeki’s tone comes out more defensive than he’d like. It’s an old argument by now, though he’s usually having it with Morishita. “When I’m applying for professorships, I want to be able to say that I can teach a class of any size.” He smiles wryly. “I’m still not sure I’ll be able to claim that with any level of confidence, but at least I’ll have the experience. I’m actually wondering if I don’t get worse at teaching with every new class.”

Ashiwara is still staring, and his mouth is hanging open very slightly with shock.

Perhaps he said something strange. Saeki grabs his drink and takes a quick gulp to distract himself from continuing to babble. He’d ordered a frothy sakura latte, absurdly sweet and bright beside Ashiwara’s straight black coffee, but he’s had lunch often enough with Ashiwara to be beyond embarrassment these days, at least about his choice of beverages.

Ashiwara finally seems to shake himself free of his reverie. “I’m sorry, I’m just--I’m very surprised.”

“About what?”

Ashiwara frowns at him thoughtfully, taking his time in answering. “You’re such a good teacher. You seem so natural at it. Of all the reasons I came up with, it never occurred to me that you choose to teach because you think you need the _practice_.”

Saeki feels himself flush at the praise. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Yes, well, I need to have _something_ to pad my CV with. I’ve heard I have stiff competition for the position at Ritsumeikan.” He flashes a grin at Ashiwara.

Ashiwara laughs, the line of his shoulders relaxing. “Maybe,” he says, his eyes smiling as they meet Saeki’s. “But maybe not. I’d say you’re pretty unbeatable, Saeki~kun.” And he winks.

Saeki hopes he’s not actually glowing the way he feels he is. That would be way too embarrassing. “Thank you,” he manages to say. “Do you feel ready?”

“I think so. My interview is scheduled a week before yours. I’m not sure if I’m jealous that you have more time or relieved to be able to get it over with.”

“Well, we have about a month to prepare, anyway.” Saeki looks at Ashiwara, with his kind eyes and his encouraging words. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to say this to my number one rival,” he tells Ashiwara drily, “but good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”

“Your number one?” Ashiwara replies. “Why, Saeki~kun, I didn’t realise I ranked so high in your affections!”

Saeki snorts a laugh. “Yes you did,” he says.

Ashiwara’s smile is small and secretive. “Yes,” he agrees. “I did.”

\--

At the onset, one month felt like an eternity. Now that the time has come, though, he feels woefully unprepared for the day ahead of him.

When Saeki boards the shinkansen, he finds the car is largely empty, and he feels a little twinge of regret that he bothered to pay to reserve a seat. He settles into an empty row by a window and watches the city fade into rice paddies as the train carries him southwest toward his interview.

He knows he should be using the transit to prepare, but by the time the meal cart comes rolling up the aisle, the only progress he’s made toward productivity has been to pull out his phone and scroll through his university e-mail inbox. He leisurely responds to the questions from his students, raises his eyebrows at the e-mail from Kurata inviting the entire department listserv to drinks on the weekend, rolls his eyes at Kurata’s amendment--timestamped five-minutes later--clarifying that only the department’s _faculty_ were invited to drinks, and finally, finally comes to the e-mail that he was pretending not to be searching for.

**Saeki~kun, good luck at your interview today!! I know you’ll be amazing! I can’t wait to see you when you get back!**

**-Ashiwara (your #1 rival < 3)**

And how typical of Ashiwara, to take such a carefree attitude even toward such a competitive situation.

Saeki keeps the e-mail open on his phone, sliding his thumb across the screen every few moments to keep the words from fading away, until the train slows on its approach into Kyoto.

\--

“Great talk, Saeki-san!” cheers Shirakawa, clapping as he walks up to the lectern while the room empties around them. “Very interesting.”

Saeki grins at Shirakawa as he unplugs his laptop from the display. With the talk and interviews over, he feels so weightless with relieved tension that he has the insane urge to check that his feet are still on the ground and that he isn’t literally floating. “Thank you. I really appreciate all your help today, Shirakawa-sensei.”

Shirakawa laughs. “It’s been a pleasure!” Shirakawa waits a moment until Saeki’s computer has been safely packed away into its bag before speaking again. “I don’t mean to be pushing you out, Saeki-san, but I believe you mentioned you were planning on leaving right after the talk?”

“That’s right. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m teaching a class tomorrow morning, and I’d hoped to get home tonight.”

“Not at all. I just wanted to offer to drop you off at the shinkansen station.”

Saeki hesitates, but given that Shirakawa drove him to the university from the station in the first place, he’s been anticipating the offer. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d be very grateful.”

“No trouble at all, Saeki-san. Right this way, then.”

Shirakawa maintains a constant stream of small talk all the way to his car, and he seems so cheerful and friendly that Saeki allows himself to acknowledge the small seed of hope that’s been growing since he came here and saw how well-received he was by the current faculty.

Once they’ve begun their short drive to the station, however, Shirakawa broaches a new topic. “I did want you to know, Saeki-san, that I think you’d be a great addition to our faculty here. But some other members of my department are leaning towards another candidate. I think you might know him. Ashiwara-san?”

Saeki feels all the happiness sucked out of him all at once. _It’s not a big deal,_ he tries to remind himself, _there are other universities I’ll like just as well._ He does his best to keep his thoughts from his face when he replies, “Yes, he’s actually doing his postdoc under a different professor in the same department as me.”

“What a coincidence!” marvels Shirakawa, barely attempting to affect any surprise at the information. “What do you think of him?”

It’s a competition, after all. Saeki considers how he can use this opportunity to secure the position for himself, what words he can say to subtly imply inferiority in another without coming off as slanderous himself. This is what rivalry is all about, and Ashiwara is his number one.

“Ashiwara is…” Saeki sighs and resigns himself to tossing aside the clever words he had lined up, the words he is never going to be able to bring himself to say. “He’s brilliant. He’s smart, innovative, hardworking, and gets along well with everyone.” Saeki smiles crookedly at Shirakawa. “You couldn’t do better, I can tell you that.”

Shirakawa hums at him thoughtfully as he pulls up near the shinkansen station. “Well, we’ll see how it all turns out. Thank you for coming, Saeki-san! We’ll be in touch with you soon!”

Saeki waits until he’s settled into a window seat on the train to slump into his hands. He knows it was a longshot--knew it was a longshot from the moment he received that e-mail from Ashiwara--but he can’t help the disappoint flooding him. He did his best--he was _amazing_ \--but he’s outclassed.

And, it’s strange, but… a not-inconsiderable part of his disappointment is the thought that soon, Ashiwara will be a two-hour shinkansen ride away. No more passing one another in the halls and exchanging quick smiles, no more quiet discussions of their research progress, no more laughing congratulations over successes and gentle commiserations over failures. 

No more e-mails with the subject line of **Lunch < 3**.

Saeki watches the spring rain sluice down the windows against the darkening sky as he wonders if anyone on the planet is as stupid as he is.

\--

“How did it go?” asks Morishita, from where he’d been waiting by the door of Saeki’s classroom like a tiger ready to pounce.

“How did it go?” ask Waya and Shindou, crowding around his desk in their shared office.

“How did it go?” asks his mother on the phone, sounding excited.

Saeki smiles until his cheeks hurt with the effort, and he replies to them all, “I think it went well, but I guess I’ll find out soon.”

Ashiwara’s e-mail reads, **I know you did great, so I won’t even bother to ask < 3**

Maybe, Saeki thinks to himself, he should have planned this all out better. He knew that Ashiwara was applying to Ritsumeikan. He should have applied to other departments in Kyoto. He should have applied to every department in Kyoto. He should have done everything possible to ensure that he’d at least be in the same town as Ashiwara.

He wonders if he would have come off as creepy.

He wonders if he would have cared.

\--

Saeki is still staring at the screen, frozen in shock, when Shindou and Waya clash and bang their way into the office.

“Oh no,” sighs Waya, shaking his head. “What horrors has the digital word sent you now, Saeki-san?”

“Maybe this time Ashiwara-san told him ‘No lunch less than slash three,’” ponders Shindou.

“That would definitely produce that expression,” agrees Waya, “but there’s no way Ashiwara-san would ever send that e-mail. Not to Saeki-san, anyway.”

Saeki clears his throat. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Waya,” he says. “But I might be able to prove you wrong on that.”

Shindou and Waya freeze, gaping at him. “No. Way. No way. There’s no way. Right?” Shindou looks to Waya for support. “There’s seriously no way.”

Saeki smiles at them wryly. “Well, you’re right that I haven’t gotten an e-mail like that from Ashiwara, but--”

“Ha!” says Shindou with satisfaction. Waya is still staring at Saeki, unable to process the conversation.

“-- _But_ , he may yet. No, this e-mail,” Saeki hesitates. It feels like it must be a mistake. An illusion? Will saying it out loud break the spell? “It’s from Ritsumeikan. They’d like to offer a position on the faculty as an Assistant Professor.”

This news finally breaks Waya out of his frozen state, and he whoops along with Shindou. After the obligatory round of congratulations and high-fives, Waya demands, “So why do you look so miserable? This is great! Isn’t Ritsumeikan your first choice?”

“Yes, but… I guess I’m just confused. Ashiwara is a much better candidate.”

Waya rolls his eyes at Shindou, who mouths back, ‘whipped.’

“I hope he’s okay. Do you think he’s very angry with me? I--” Saeki scowls and slaps away Shindou’s hands, which have progressed to fluttering a heart around Saeki’s head. “Yes, yes, I get it, stop already.” He turns back to the computer and taps his fingers against his desk. “What do I tell him?”

Shindou and Waya exchange glances. Shindou shoves his hands in his pockets, settling into seriousness with a suddenness that still gives Saeki whiplash. “He’ll understand, Saeki-san,” he says, meeting Saeki’s eyes. This serious version of Shindou can be frightening in his intensity, and Saeki has to suppress a shiver. “He’s in the same position as you, isn’t he?”

Saeki shrugs uncertainly, and just like that, Shindou’s intensity fades into nothing, and he laughs. “Relax, Saeki-san! Just tell him, and then invite him out to lunch. See what he says.”

Saeki considers this, then nods. As he reaches for his mouse to begin a new message, however, a new e-mail appears in his inbox.

“Wait, wait--he sent one first.”

Shindou and Waya wait for a moment, but when Saeki remains silent, Waya says with some impatience, “ _Well?_ ”

“He--invited me out to lunch.”

“See?” says Shindou easily. “You’re fine.”

“But--” Saeki pauses. It sounds silly to put it into words. He flushes. “There’s no heart.”

“What?”

“He just says, ‘Lunch?’ With, uh, no ‘less than three.’”

Waya crosses his arms as Shindou shakes his head in dismay. “You,” says Waya, “are incredibly spoiled.”

Saeki scowls at them both. He turns back to his computer and frowns at his screen.

**Lunch?**

He sighs and clicks **Reply**.

\--

Ashiwara is nervous.

Saeki has never seen a nervous Ashiwara before, and he finds the concept to be slightly terrifying. Given the news that he himself has to share, with the disappointment it’s sure to bring Ashiwara, Saeki feels his own nerves skyrocket at the sight of Ashiwara fidgeting.

How to deal with this, Saeki wonders. Quickly, like with a band-aid? Though, Saeki has always been more of a slow-peeler, himself.

“I got the position,” Ashiwara says suddenly.

Saeki blinks in surprise, trying to reconcile Ashiwara’s words with the images of first-aid kits that had been flying through his mind.

Ashiwara must see Saeki’s confusion, because he twists the already-heavily-wrinkled serviette tighter in his fingers and clarifies, “At Ritsumeikan. I received an e-mail from them this morning, and they offered me a faculty position.”

Saeki stares at Ashiwara, hardly able to parse the words coming out of Ashiwara’s mouth. If Ashiwara was offered the position, but then Saeki was also offered the position, then that must mean--”You turned them down?”

Now it’s Ashiwara’s turn to stare in surprise. “I--no, that is, I haven’t responded yet.” Ashiwara shifts uncertainly in his seat, then asks, “Would you like me to?”

“What?” Saeki barely hears the question, already pulling out his phone to review his own e-mail. “This doesn’t make sense. Did they make a mistake? They can’t have actually accepted both of us, can they?”

Saeki looks up when he hears Ashiwara’s breath hitch. He frowns in concern at Ashiwara’s expression. “Hey,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Ashiwara smiles at him weakly. “Yes, yes of course. Sorry, did you say--did you say that you were offered a position as well?”

Saeki nods. “I mean, it must be a mistake. You’re obviously the better candidate; they must have meant to offer it to you and accidentally sent the letter to me as well.”

Ashiwara laughs at him, and Saeki feels his stomach twist at the sight of the joy flooding into Ashiwara’s expression, until Ashiwara looks ready to float with it. “They accidentally sent you a personalised letter of offer, Saeki-kun? And you think that sounds likely?”

“Well, I mean,” says Saeki, embarrassed. “I didn’t expect--and how many faculty positions did they have open, anyway?”

Ashiwara shrugs, still grinning.

“If we were both to end up at Ritsumeikan,” begins Saeki nervously, “how would you feel about that?”

Ashiwara smiles at him, eyes bright. “I would feel that that would be _perfect_ , Saeki~kun.”

“Oh,” says Saeki, grinning foolishly down at the table in front of him. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Saeki-san,**
> 
> **Of course we sent the offer to both of you _on purpose!_ How would we even do that by accident?**
> 
> **-Shirakawa**


End file.
